The Ride - Chapter 3

[OMR]

Chapter 3

The darkness around Glen was crawling like black spiders into the back of his mind as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. The last thing he had remembered was something had touched him on the arm… something cold and alive. He shuddered as he remembered the feeling. Even his arm had a sort of tingling where he had felt the cold pressure. He was lying on the side of the single track at the intersection of the main trail. He tasted blood and slowly wiped his hand across his face and glanced down. In the darkening twig light he could see a darker stain on his gloves. “Shit!”, he said aloud, I’ll bet that was going to leave a bruise and probably would need stitches. Just what I need right now.

Slowly, getting to his feet, he noticed that his right ankle hurt as well and could feel the swelling beginning to rise. “Shit, shit…SHIT!” I don’t need this right now. He could barely make out his bike lying in the bushes. Well it must have been a good crash…but I don’t remember… just the thought of the cold touch and that was all.

Picking up the bike and stepping out onto the main trail, Glen noticed that the lights had come on in the houses surrounding the park. In fact he now could hear dogs barking in the distance and somebody calling for their kids to come inside and get ready for bed. Even the night sounds had returned…frogs, crickets and birds moving in the trees… everything was back to normal.

Glen spun around straining to see in the gloom where the single track was that had been glowing. He could see nothing. Had it been his imagination? He didn’t think so… unless, well … maybe a flashback from the LSD he had taken in college several years back? Do they have flashbacks years later? His ankle was hurting more now and he needed to get back to the car. Yeah, that’s it… back to the car. It was waiting for him in the main parking lot. Spitting blood out of his mouth, Glen slowly picked the bike back up, got on and started to pedal down the main trail back to the car. The cool breeze felt good on his face as he left the main trail and turned onto the paved road that led back to the ranger station and main parking lot.

There were no cars in the lot as he pulled up to the car. Slowly stepping off his bike, his ankle protested at the sudden weight put on it. “Damn! That’s going to need ice as soon as possible”, he said aloud. Loading the bike onto the rack, he noticed that although the car was his, it somehow looked different. Must be the light, he thought… or the after effects of the crash.

Dropping his helmet and water pack into the back along with his biking shoes and gloves, he pulled off his now sweats soaked STR jersey and noticed the dirty tear on the right shoulder. It must have been a good crash … I just don’t seem to remember much. I’ll need to post this crash on the board tonight as it had been several months since his last one. He knew he would take the usual ribbing from the guys over this one. I don’t think I’ll mention anything about the glowing trail or the feeling of something watching him…. or that strange, cold touch. That would really draw some comments from the STR Tribe. They’ll think…. No, they’d know he was going nuts!

Coming around to the driver’s door, he fished in his shorts to find the keys…oddly they weren’t there. “Double damn!” I must have lost them in the crash, he thought. Great, that means I’ll have to ride back in the dark and try and find the single track and then the keys. Good luck there Bucko! Putting his hands on the car door handle, Glen gave it a perfunctory yank… and to his surprise it opened. Had he left the car open all this time?

Slipping inside the lighted car, the first thing he noticed was his face in the rear view mirror. There was a nice sized gash across the bridge of his nose and a slight swelling on the right side of his cheek. That was some crash, Bucko!... but nothing a little ice and IB wouldn’t cure. The ankle was a different matter. The pain and swelling was making it hard to put any pressure on it.

It was then that he noticed this wasn’t his car…. Or was it? It seemed somehow different and then again not. There were his papers on the passenger seat next to him. There was the banana peel from the banana that he had wolfed down prior to the ride. Yes, it was his car… but the dash seemed different. Where the ignition should have been, there was a finger pad instead. Am I going crazy? Glen thought. Putting his right index finger on the pad, the car stirred to life. I don’t understand this, but I need to get home and ice this ankle that was now throbbing.

The trip home seemed to take forever. Every stop light was his enemy and he seemed to be stuck behind every slow driver on the road tonight. He felt like shouting at the top of his lungs, he so badly wanted to get home.

When he finally pulled into his driveway, his body seemed to relax and he could feel the tenseness melting away. Home is the sailor from the sea, he thought. I’ll put the bike and stuff away tomorrow. He just wanted to get inside, dress his wounds, sit down and put his feet up with an ice cold beer. Yeah, that was the ticket. The front door opened soundlessly as he lumbered into the hallway and headed for the kitchen and the first aid box under the sink.

Glen was so intent in opening the box, he didn’t hear the sound of quiet steps coming up behind him. “What happened to you?” a familiar voice asked. Glen spun around and nearly fell off the chair. His eyes open wide in shock. Another scream was starting to emerge from his suddenly dry throat.

Sandy, his dead wife was now in the kitchen coming towards him!

[CeeDubb]

There it is!! Thanks Gregg!!

[CeeDubb]

This is like episodes of LOST...

[PacMan]

AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME


You better promise to give us chapter 4 in the next few days or I'm shovin' a stick through your spokes tomorrow

[BrewMaster]

Originally Posted by PacMan

You better promise to give us chapter 4 in the next few days or I'm shovin' a stick through your spokes tomorrow

He wouldn't care about the spokes. But if you put a stick through his unstoppable hair, then you are in for a fight!

[53-12]

Like any great trail, keeps you wondering what is around the next bend. Keep it coming.